


You Need A Friendly Hand, And I Need Action

by aunt_zelda



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Dirty Talk, Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 21:51:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 892
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aunt_zelda/pseuds/aunt_zelda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Newt spends the night at Hannibal's place after a long day of Kaiju research, and decides to unwind in his private room. Turns out it's not so private, and loudly moaning Hannibal's name is kind of a good way to get his attention.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Need A Friendly Hand, And I Need Action

**Author's Note:**

> Written for this prompt on evrybodysdarlin's tumblr: http://evrybodysdarlin.tumblr.com/post/74565922540/i-just-made-up-a-porny-newtibal-prompt
> 
> Title from Rocky Horror because I've already used "Caught With Your Pants Down" as a title for a fic.

Newt doesn’t realize how late it’s gotten until Hannibal yawns loudly and glances down at wristwatch that looks more expensive than anything Newt’s ever even touched (except for Kaiju of course.) 

“Jesus, kid!” Hannibal stares at the time. “Too late to get you back to the base now. You’re stayin’ here tonight.”

Newt blinks. “Wait, what? Can’t I just, like, catch a cab?”

“No cabs at this hour, in the Bone Slums.” Hannibal waves a hand. “And don’t even think about walking. You’d be grabbed and gutted before you went three blocks.”

Newt gulps. “Oh. Um. Ok?”

“Great, fucking sleepover,” Hannibal claps a huge hand on Newt’s shoulder and hauls him out of the lab. “There’s some guest rooms upstairs, take your pick.”

Newt lets himself be half dragged into an opulent elevator, all brass and mirrors, and has a sudden, horribly inconvenient thought about the prospect of elevator sex with Hannibal. 

It doesn’t happen. They reach the floor with the guest rooms and Hannibal pushes him towards a set of doors. Newt chooses one at random and ducks inside, hoping his blush is reasonably hidden. 

“See you in the morning, bright and early. We’ll finish our business and I’ll get you a cab home.”

“Thanks, man,” Newt manages, face flushing.

“Don’t mention it,” Hannibal slams the door shut.

Newt holds his breath, listening for the sound of a lock on the other side … but there’s nothing.

He tries not to be disappointed. If Hannibal had locked him in, this would have been a kidnapping situation, and the start of some creepy agreement signed under duress, and Newt “working” for him forever. That would have been scary. But … if he’d locked him in, that’d mean that Hannibal had a key to his room, and could come in at any time. 

Newt shivers, skin still tingling from where Hannibal touched him. An innocuous, totally platonic touch from the other man’s perspective, but that doesn’t matter to Newt. 

He lays back on the bed, imagining Hannibal’s giant hands all over him, not just a playful shove on the arm or the back, but under his shirt, tracing the tattoos on his arms and his belly. 

Newt wonders if Hannibal is talkative in bed, growling orders or insults, taunting his partners. 

Newt really, really, _really_ wants to find out. 

Newt kicks off his shoes and crawls up onto the bed properly. No harm in having a bit of fun, he’s had a long day at work after all …

~*~

Hannibal kicks back some scotch and checks his emails, making sure all is well and there’s nothing to be dealt with in his business. 

Then, because he’s a paranoid sonuvabitch, he checks the video surveillance on Newt’s guest room. Not that he expects to see anything more suspicious than a sleeping geek, but it doesn’t hurt to be careful. 

What he doesn’t expect is a half-naked geek splayed out like a centerfold, jerking off pretty enthusiastically for someone who hasn’t slept in more than 16 hours. 

It’s a sight that’s burned into Hannibal’s brain permanently, and for once, he’s glad that something shocking is gonna be stuck in his mind forever. Newt is a pretty pleasing sight, and, since he thinks nobody’s watching, he’s completely unrestrained and isn’t self-conscious at all. Even confident, ballsy people like Newt get all flustered jerking off in front of other people, and Hannibal appreciates getting to see him like this, no ego on display, just pure undiluted pleasure. 

Newt’s also muttering, under his breath, in-between moans and pants. 

A little adjustment on the microphone and … 

“… mmmm, yeah … I’m dirty … you’re so right … dirty and … auuugh yes …”

Hannibal is about to turn off the feed, or surreptitiously record it for later and close the window for now, when he hears his own name.

“Hannibal …”

Whoa. Hang on.

“So big … I can take it … come on … _Hannibal_ …”

Hannibal sits up. This needs to be addressed, now.

~*~

Newt is pretty sure he has five heart attacks at once when he hears a knock on the door. 

“Newt? It’s Hannibal.”

Oh god oh god oh god he’s dead. He’s so dead. Hannibal is here to murder him for jerking off in this nice guestroom. Newt is gonna die with his hand on his dick and that is so not how he imagined going out oh god. 

“Uh … yeah?” he calls out, paralyzed with terror.

“Can I come in?”

Newt bites back a squeak of fear and struggles to pull his pants back up. “Uh … just a minute?” he calls out.

Hannibal doesn’t wait, the door is opening, and suddenly the man is towering over Newt at the edge of the bed.

“Hi?” Newt squeaks, he totally squeaks, because he is so dead. 

“You know, you’re pretty loud, kid,” Hannibal grins, leaning down.

Newt scoots back over the covers. “Sorry?”

“Nothing to apologize for. I just got one question: you want me here, or you want me out?”

Newt gulps. “Um … here?”

Hannibal slides off his shoes and climbs up onto the bed, pulling Newt’s jeans back down. “I’m impressed at your restraint. No Kaiju tattooed on this?” he wraps a hand around Newt’s cock and strokes, fast and rough.

Newt’s ability to speak melts away, and he settles on moaning enthusiastically in response to pretty much everything Hannibal does to him from there on out.


End file.
